


The Storm

by Melle66



Series: Airborne [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:48:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21565690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melle66/pseuds/Melle66
Summary: Due to a family emergency Jack has been gone for 25 days, which has left a grumpy Gibbs alone with his thoughts.
Relationships: Jethro Gibbs/Jacqueline "Jack" Sloane
Series: Airborne [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1554208
Comments: 15
Kudos: 90





	The Storm

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfic I've written in a while and my first jump into the NCIS universe. My intention is to have this series hold multiple one-shots inspired by songs from The Airborne Toxic Event, but we'll see if that works. I hope you enjoy reading this!  
Also, English is not my first language and I don't have a beta, so I do apologize for the clumsy slang and all that jazz.  
Please let me know what you think!

She had been gone for 25 days this time, the longest she’d been since she started going and coming from California. Nobody was talking about it, but the effects of her absence were beginning to show on him. He tried to focus on work, but even the criminals seemed to be uninspired if Jack wasn’t there, so he was left with more than enough time to sulk in the bullpen while his team tried to find a distraction. It was useless. It had been a while since he stopped fighting the urge to hide his feelings for her, and even though he didn’t waltz around the building singing about them, everyone kept silently wishing she was back already to end their suffering. 

He got a call from her every few days, but the minutes of respite she had weren’t enough for him to wind down. Her aunt was dying and Jack was doing her best to support her father in such hard moments, even if her awareness of other people’s emotions were taking a toll on her. He could notice by the way she overshared information, as if she was afraid she’d break apart if she didn’t keep talking, working, doing something. As if she would be fine as long as she moved. He wished he could be there for her, or that he could at least think of something he could say to make it better, easier for her. Still, he ended up every night lying on his couch, missing her. Tonight was no exception, so he spent it watching the shadows made by the fireplace dancing on the white of the ceiling. He saw her face there, it’s silhouette… If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel her eyes on him, always fishing to know what was inside him, always asking questions she’d never say out loud. He had all the answers for her, and even if the truth was hard to admit, he was sure he would speak each one of his truths to Jack in exchange for holding her close.

It bothered him that his resolve crumbled to pieces wherever she was concerned. At this rate, he’d end up burning all of his rules, one by one, sooner rather than later. The careful planning of a lifetime soon turned into nothing and it was all because Jack had broken into his life in the middle of a storm. Or maybe it was the first sign of a storm that began with her, shaking the very foundations of the man he used to be. Gibbs was no fool, even he could see that he was indeed softening. The passing whispers between the members of his team, the knowing glances from Leon or Ducky, or Grace’s straightforward observations weren’t at all necessary, oh no. The very first time Jack smiled his way and somehow made the world seem better was enough for him to know he was a goner.

He stood from the couch with a sudden movement that made everything around him spin for a moment. Age really wasn’t being kind to him. Still, he started walking over to the basement, ignoring the dizziness. He needed a distraction from his thoughts and he had left an opened beer there before his break and those thoughts… Working on the boat was a safe place. Feeling the wood under his hands, his skin gathering dust as he sanded it, listening to his own rhythmic movements grounded him. It was an old trick that never failed to get his mind off uncomfortable thoughts. Except that over the last year he had gotten used to her sudden appearances at the top of the stairs, a smile on her face and a beer on each hand, and God! Would he be lying if he said the sight didn’t make him want to sink to his knees and pray her name again and again.

Being in love was too much for him. Life had taught him time after time trouble was the only thing that could come out of it. People died, or they left one way or another. He didn’t want Jack to do either, it would be too painful, but he wondered how much longer they’d be able to hold on to their friendship, as deep as it was. Then there was another question. Did he want to hold on to it? Because if he was perfectly honest, he would give anything to be 25 years younger and just throw himself out of the storm and into her arms. He imagined they would feel like home after 25 days without her. How long did it take for someone to become necessary? It took him by surprise when he realized she was to him, that in spite of never wanting to talk about himself, he craved to hear her talk and laugh at him, to fire questions which he always answered, sooner or later, one way or another. If he tried, he couldn’t pinpoint the exact day when he started loving her, but his road seemed to unwind in front of him, almost clearing the view.

He wished he had given her the painting in person, instead of hanging it in her office for her to discover. He wished he had had the guts to face that conversation. She deserved it, and self-pity be damned, he deserved it as well. Jack was always so generous, never pushing him into admitting his feelings, giving up on her own so that he could be comfortable. It added a weight on his stomach because he could tell she saw the same path as him. Maybe, just maybe, she was all he had been looking for so long. Maybe he didn’t have to be alone.

Jack was in his kitchen when he went up to get another beer. Her eyes were closed, her hips lazily leaning against the counter. Her oversized cardigan made her look even smaller than she was without heels. She had put her hair up in a ponytail at some point during the day, but now it hung loose and messy. It didn’t take a genius to see she was exhausted, but she still smiled softly and turned her face his way without opening her eyes.

“Gonna stare all day, cowboy?”

Without a word and with a smirk of his own, he fully stepped into the kitchen and towards her, but bypassed her to reach for the fridge. She heard him move next to her and finally looked at him, showing the reddish tint on her brown eyes. Instead of rushing to talk, Gibbs wordlessly handed her a beer and watched her take a gulp at it before taking his own. He stood next to her, also leaning on the counter, and waited. Jack tried to ignore him and pretend he didn’t know she needed him to listen because she wasn’t even sure she was ready to decompress. He seemed to understand, but it didn’t matter in the end, since the moment he glanced at her, her mouth got a will of its own.

“Aunt has a few weeks left.” The strength of her voice took her by surprise. Even if she wasn’t close to the woman, the month spend in such an emotional environment had taken a toll on her. She shook her head and winced, “She’s not in pain anymore though, which is nice… My dad’s…” Gibbs gently nudged her with his elbow as she collected herself, unable to hold a smile from him, “My dad’s doing better now. Says it’s weird to become an only child, but life has to go on for everyone.”

“Including ya?” asked Gibbs before taking a swing of his beer, and her smile widened as she nodded, turning on her heels to fold herself against his frame. Her arms didn’t go around him as she leaned into him, resting with her face hidden on his chest, but his free one did slide around her shoulders instinctively. He marveled at the warmth of her reaching into his core, filling the space that had grown unattended for 25 days. In an instant, he could barely remember her being away. The memory so distant as he held her close and nuzzled her hair as if he needed to convince his senses that she was real.

“I’m sorry it took so long” she mumbled, or at least that’s what he understood from the words that came out drowned by his own clothes. He tightened his hold on her in way of an answer before reaching behind him to place his beer on the counter. Then he took hers from her hand and put it away as well. Then he cradled her face in his hand to gently make her look up to him.

“How are ya?”

The smile she shot his way was mirrored in his face, and if she found that unusual the blush on her face was the only thing to give her away. She took a deep breath and shrugged her shoulders.

“Honestly? I’m only tired.”

Gibbs nodded, running a hand through her hair, breaking it free from the already loose ponytail. She shook her head as her hands moved up his chest and gathered his shirt in her fists. Her eyes fell on her hands and he could almost hear the gears on her brain preparing to drop a bomb.

“I really hated calling you, you know?” her tone was softer than her words, which was the only thing that kept him from pulling away from her. She still must have read the confusion in his eyes, because she let a shy laugh escape her lips, “It only made me want to come home sooner.”

Home was a strong word, one he had ran away from for so long he couldn’t recall the last time a place held such a meaning to him. The house was home to many, but he had felt like a stranger in it since the day a shared bedroom became only his. But how could a heart host a new home when it hadn’t let go of the previous one? Empty hands were hard to offer, and now all he had in them was a woman who was willing to walk with him as he carried his baggage.

“Know ya can stay as long as ya need, hm?”

He didn’t know if he was inviting her to stay in his house or in his heart, but it didn’t matter and the way she snuggled closer to him, finally letting her hands slide around him in a hug, made him think she had chosen the latter. A few years before, he would have panicked and promptly brought up rule #12, but his overwhelming calm felt like the culmination of a storm that had started the very first night she had walked into his house. It took him years to realize the storm would have hit him whether or not she had knocked on his door, because the storm wasn’t her; it was his change of heart, the shift in his life. And now, after 25 months chasing for answers, he could finally see with the right ground on his feet that he wasn’t alone.


End file.
